Very Secret Diary OF Dedicate Lark
by Pokkie
Summary: Very Secret Diary Of Dedicate Lark during the Blue Pox epidemic


_Disclaimer: yada, yada, you've heard it all before.  
This was written for the The Dancing Dove very secret diary _

**Entry 1:**  
It is late, and I am sitting by Rosie's bed. I can only see her form in this semi-darkness, but I can hear her breathing softly, once every so often as she turns in her sleep; the night always magnifies the sounds suspended in the air and the wind carries it out for our ears to hear. I can feel myself smile as the familiar sounds of her breathing reach my ears, it brings comfort to my heart to know that she and Briar have returned home safely without any incidents. The soft light from the stone I am holding is only strong enough to light the paper on which I write so her features are hidden from my view.  
I haven't written anything for a while, partly because I've been busy and partly because I couldn't bring myself to do so until I knew that she and Briar were back, safe and sound from the Blue Pox.  
I've been so naive, thinking that nothing like this would ever happen again. It's only been three short years since our last major epidemic breakout, but back then at least we had known what we were dealing with. Blue pox is completely new to our Healers, and does not show any traces of being born off another Pox.   
Epidemics like these claim the lives of people by hundreds, maybe even thousands. So many lives are lost; so many suffer from that loss. Sandry knows how personal it is to lose someone you love dearly to such a disease, many of us do, no matter what our status is. Whether you are a beggar or a noble you still feel the same emotions after losing someone you care for.  
I couldn't believe my ears when the girls announced that Rosie and Briar were coming back. The long sleepless nights when I wasn't exhausted from pouring my magic into the protective clothes for those dealing with the sick, I worried about Rosie and Briar. They now are have returned; I can at last sleep peacefully.  
They arrived on horseback this afternoon. When she jumped from her horse and into the mud before wrapping her arms around me, for the first time in so many days I felt myself relax and for once stop worrying.   
During the moment we held each other before the girls joined us, she whispered to me tears slowly rolling down her cheek then dripping onto my habit "Promise you'll never leave me." For an instant she felt so vulnerable in my arms I couldn't bear to let her go. I wanted to hold her in my arms forever. I was so overcome with the joy of seeing her and Briar return that it baffled me, though only for a moment, when she whispered the words to me.  
For the first time in many days, I feel content and happy.

**Entry 2:**  
Briar and Rosie have almost completely packed up in order to work in the greenhouses, the very next day after coming home. It looks like they will only come here when we bully them into it. Poor Tris has also been dragged into this mess now as well. Although I do admit that her having absolutely nothing to do, and that she was getting in the way with her constant asking to be given one task or another, it is still unjust to have her working for Crane, especially at this critical time.   
The poor girl was formerly terrified of Rosie, I can't imagine what kind of impression Crane has left on her. His head, without Rosie around, has been getting bigger and bigger. He thinks so high and mighty of himself; someone needs to walk up to him and burst his bubble, bringing him back down from his superiority.  
One of them might be alright to handle, but both at the same time is just inviting chaos. Gods I can't think of anything worse, Rosie and Crane in the same room are like a volatile mixture in a heated, enclosed space. I can still hear them bickering in the dining room, if somebody won't stop them they're most likely to keep going till dawn, or until they tear each other to shreds.

**Entry 3:**  
Oh Mila and the Green Man, please protect us all. The Blue Pox is spreading around like fire, they are bringing back the temple dedicates with the disease home. Novices Fara, Olatji, Kazem, Alasha and Nanjo, as well as dedicates Henna, Egret and Treefrog. It is important that Sandry and I keep working on the protective clothes, no matter how tiring it is. Crane made a request to try making the clothes more skin tight, which puzzled me. He wouldn't tell me his reasons for it though when he, Briar, and Rosie (who seemed very shaken by something that happened today) returned from the greenhouses. It's bothering me that they make requests of such manner without an eligible explanation, then expect me to do as asked.  
Later tonight, Rosie told me of the spill, and while she kept reassuring me that everything was fine, somehow I couldn't shake off the feeling that she was as scared about this new situation, as anyone was, no matter how much she tried to cover it up with sharp and clever words. She stood quietly by the window in my work room pale and trembling. I held her whispering soothing words to her, telling her everything will work out in the end. It always does. Bad times never last long, good times will always come afterwards, no matter how bleak the future may seem. She brushed me off and headed for bed. She tries so hard to be tough on the outside.  
Before she pushed me away, as I held her, it felt as if all the flesh had disappeared from her muscular body. She felt so thin in my arms, like a wilted flower or a dying sapling. Perhaps I should go to bed as well. Maybe I'm just tired and letting my imagination run away with me.

**Entry 4:**  
I don't know how to bring myself to write this. It appears like the gods have decided to play a cruel joke on all of us for their own amusement. This is the second night this week that I am sitting by Rosie's bed. The room is almost as dark as the last time I was here, save for one additional light globe on her bedside table. She's been writing notes all afternoon pretending to be fine, but now that her strength has finally given, she is asleep. Her skin is paler than usual as if all life was drawn out of her, to my touch it feels cool and clammy, which means that it will be a few hours before the fever picks up; the signs of it approaching are already there. She is restless in slumber, tossing blankets from her cold body every few minutes. Her beautiful lips have lost all their colour and volume. They've become so thin, almost white, shrunk in size like a dried apricot. The dark circles under her eyes were giving away how exhausted she was this morning, now they appear to have consumed her eyes completely.  
Unfortunately, it was not until midday that we discovered Rosie had contracted the Blue Pox. One minute she was like a healthy beautiful flower in full bloom and the next minute she is sick, with little strength to fight the illness, like a tree in a winter storm against the rough winds.  
It truly pains me to write such things, but who else can I talk to if Rosie is sleeping? I've tried being brave and cheerful for all of us. We need all the laughs we can get right now. How could anyone be so careless? Among all the people in the world Crane knew what they were dealing with, the essence of the disease! Spilled right on her, and they carried on as if it were milk. I cannot believe it, but unlike Rosie I am not so hard on people, and couldn't bring myself to tell him outright what I thought of him (although I greatly regret not doing so now).  
When Sandry and I had arrived at Moonstream's office she was slightly more helpful than Crane, although it took me approximately half an hour to talk her into letting Rosie come back to the cottage instead of the infirmaries full of those dimwitted water dedicates. I know better than anyone what it is like dealing with the protection spells, as I myself put them into clothes to be worn by those finding the keys to this illness.  
At least Moonstream granted me permission to take Rosie home. She is unlike so many others who would have turned my request down. Kindness just seems to flow through her veins because she seemingly understands the situation we are currently facing. She knows all too well how hard it is to lose those who are very dear to us. I doubt that she would have refused anyone to take their loved ones home if they were sick.  
Arriving at the greenhouses, I had no trouble taking Rosie back to the house with me. It was strange how cheeky she can still be in the given circumstances when she gave Crane his third key for unraveling the disease. And as we left, it was just like her to push my arm away in protest that she is still well enough to walk around without help as I tried putting it around her waist.  
Rosie keeps pretending as if nothing has happened, it shocks me to think what she will be like once the fever comes on full force. I don't understand why she has to be so stubborn about things. She's just going to tire herself faster this way, continuing writing notes and suggestions. I don't know how I'd handle everything if I were in her situation.  
It pains me to see her like this, I wish to be able to do something for her. This is no fable, this is real. I can't just kiss the princess and make everything better. How I wish I could though. Oh, now I'm starting to sound like a little girl. If Rosie ever saw this she would probably tie me up with my own embroidery thread and hide all the paper and ink in the house just for writing such nonsense.

**Entry 5:**  
It's becoming so hard to cover my true feelings. I hide behind the smile as time unravels what it has in store for all of us. My poor dear Rosie, she is just so tired. She needs us so much right now. For the first time since she finished working in the greenhouses with Crane, she had no notes to send back. Her body has become feeble and exhausted and her magic as weak as a kitten.  
I honestly appreciate what Sandry, Tris, Daja and Briar are trying to do for her by keeping her company, but at the same time the children are so unsettled when they are around her I have to literally pull them out of her room and send them off to bed every night. Someone's head peeping in every few minutes would have usually irritated her, but not once did I hear Rosethorn complain about anything of that nature all day long.  
I've brought a chair into the room so that anyone wishing could stay with Rosie keeping her company can at least a place to rest their legs for the moments they are with her. It is a very ugly and uncomfortable piece of furniture, but it works like magic in keeping me awake. The wooden armrests curve slightly at the edges and the stiff vertical backing of the chair does not allow me to drop off to sleep or even sit relaxed.  
Rosie is awake again, she is watching me write. I don't think she realised yet that I am aware of her being awake. Her beautiful large eyes have a glassy glow in them riddled with fever as she looks at me patiently, afraid to interrupt. I can her bed sheets rustling as she extended her arm and placed her small hand on my wrist to draw my attention. I think I've written enough for tonight, I better see whether she needs anything.

**Entry 6:**  
_"Look after Briar. When I'm gone."_  
That was all I heard her say in passing by her room today. My heart broke to hear her say those words. It felt like a large hole was created in my chest. Someone had reached and ripped out my heart. The moment outside her room lasted an eternity; I didn't realise that I was crying until my habit sleeve was wet with the salty tears. Somehow I pushed myself up the stairs into the workroom, and started working on some weaving.  
I wanted to be alone, I wanted some time to come and grip the reality of the situation. My fantasy bubble had finally been burst. I couldn't control the tears spilling from my eyes, which blurred my vision. Choking on my sobs I worked on my weaving, letting tears roll down my cheeks freely. Some one entered the room a short while later, then left as quickly as they entered. I'm glad they didn't say anything. I wouldn't have been able to say anything back. It hurt me to much. I just wanted to forget the words, pretend like Rosie never even said them.  
I never could have imagined that anything would break her spirit so much as this. It is so unfair that of all people in the world Rosie would be the one chosen to die after so much. There are murderers out there who live to old age and never suffer anything. Her pretences of being content with whatever path gods have chosen for her do not fool me. Her body betrays and contradicts everything she says to me. It infuriates me that at time like this she would try and push me away, although I do suppose she is only trying to protect me from the grief at hand.  
What is even more infuriating is that she wouldn't talk to me about it, she's talked to Daja about it at length. But what about me?  
I feel so betrayed, so lonely, so lost.  
I know I'm being so selfish, thinking of only myself at this moment. I've been hiding in my room away from everyone since midday. I know Rosie's gotten a lot worse since then but I cannot bring myself to face her in the state that I'm in. She needs someone strong to act like a pillar to lean on. Not some thread mage who can only sit in a corner and feel sorry for herself.

**Entry 7:**  
My behaviour was inexcusable. I had to make amends with whatever maddened thoughts I had before. I was desperate and frightened, I needed Rosie to sit there with me, to tell me we'll get through this.  
Together.  
Briar put a flicker of hope in me, he says they are coming close to discovering the cure. But how long will it be before the cure is ready for use? I spend half the day with Sandry working on the oils, then was bullied into going to bed.  
And although I couldn't sleep, at least I had time to think. Rosie's spots started to fade, but her fever keeps climbing, which isn't a good sign.  
Her deluded raving is sounding more and more like nonsense from madmen as she walks the paths of nightmares she lived long ago. She is reliving them once again and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Her cracked and bleeding lips trembled and a tear rolled down, leaving a wet trail down the ghastly white cheek as she feels she must fight against every single tear. Her worn out body has become so wasted in the last few days. No trace of muscle remains in her skeletal arms, they are like bare tree branches. Thin, vulnerable, and defenseless- susceptible to the fever's willing.  
Sandry came in to sit with me for a while. I felt some sense of relief as she hugged me telling me everything would work out.

**Entry 8:**  
There doesn't seem to be any progress with the cure. I am too tired to write, but I can?'t bring myself to stop. If I do stop I will fall asleep and if I fall asleep I will let go of her. I am afraid to le

**Entry 9:**  
This is unbelievable. They have found the cure. Rosie was the first one given the medicine. Crane was already with her when I stumbled in there through the darkness, barely awake. The long nights and working on oils have finally caught up with me at the most inappropriate moment. I slept for a short while after Crane visited the second time in the third hour after the sunrise, which left me feeling a lot better.  
Rosie's condition had improved throughout the day; the fever was reduced and she slept more peacefully.  
When finally I heard her snap at Daja for the first time in days, I almost tripped over my own feet as I ran to my room as fast as possible. I'm too excited to see her right now, plus Crane is with her. I need to calm down a bit, otherwise I will get the wheezes if I'm not careful. My emotions have been strung out like an overworked violin so much in the last few days. It feels like a storm of emotions has been brewing inside me, fear, unhappiness, anger, frustration, and relief all bottled up, I think it will be a while before I can face Rosie again, but when I do. . . . .

_Later_  
I didn't bother with the face mask or gloves- I just walked in there as if I had two left feet. There were a million and one things running though my head at that moment. I wanted to run, I wanted to hide, I wanted to hold her and tell her that I loved her.  
I walked into the room not knowing what to expect. Her expression was worried, confused, angry and amused at the same time. She beckoned me to come closer and patted the bed for me to sit on. I stumbled through the door and sat down quietly on the bed not knowing what to expect.  
Her hand slid gently along my back, caressing it gently. I heard a gasp escape my lips, slowly I turned my head to face her. A grin was fixed on her face, looking like a child who knew she was being praised. The same hand raised and cupped my cheek as her bony thumb wiped away the rolling tears. Tenderly she placed her index finger on my lower lip and traced the entire length, then held it in the middle, lingering for a moment with a mischievous smile curling at the corners of her own lips. I reached out and pulled her close to me.   
Rosie rested her head on my shoulder. For a few minutes there were no words exchanged between us, only touches as my fingers ran through the short locks of her chestnut tresses, which had dulled in their present state. The serene silence fell around like magic dust, the moment etching itself in my memory forever.  
That peaceful moment was broken by a few hoarse coughs. Her hand reached out to the bedside table and gingerly groped around for a glass.  
"Water" she croaked. "If the Blue Pox didn't kill me, thirst will" her voice clogged up and barely audible but all the same wicked. I laughed with relief to hear her old self again and poured her some water in a glass.

**Entry 10:**  
The last few days have been a blessing. Things are starting to settle down and return to normal again. Rosie got some of her colour back and no longer looks as white as her bed sheets. I set Sandry up with some ordinary weaving again. To my amusement, she almost cartwheeled down to the workroom in joy. Now that Briar an Tris are back as well, the four were squabbling over the chores until Rosethorn told them all off for making so much noise that entire Summersea could hear them.

**Entry 11:**  
It's finally all over. This epidemic had cost us all a lot. We lost many, especially those very dear to us.   
I thought my life would once again turn upside down today. The children acted on their impulses, even after I forbid them to jump after Rosie if she left us. Briar couldn't let her go, and the girls wouldn't allow him to do it all on his own.  
Although I didn't show it much, I was glad they've done something so outrageously stupid and dangerous. Never in my life would I have shown so much courage and loyalty to those I loved most. I guess I'm a coward. I can go on blaming myself for the entire world's troubles like this. I don't know what my life would have been like once Rosie's chapter was erased from my book. There would have been no "happy ever afters" for any of us.  
This morning Rosie's cough has gotten worse. It's been bothering her since just after the sunrise, giving her trouble breathing. The fever's rising again, and it's been bothering me. She told me that she was feeling weak, and completely energyless.  
The healers could not do anything about the situation. They were reaching the limits of their own powers, they all had about a drop's worth of magic left in them. They refused to come and see her, claiming to be too busy. Too busy doing what? One less wouldn't have mattered, they assumed that just because she's a mage it means she could heal herself. They have porridge for brains, diluted with water.  
When I left to look for Moonstream, poor Rosie had a seizure. Briar and the girls plunged into the depth of death to save her. Seeing their lifeless bodies scattered around the room, their faces full of determination, I was terrified. Briar clinging onto Rosie's almost translucent hand was a spectacle unto itself; both were so white that I thought there would be no way for them to return to us again.  
There was nothing to stop them, I was outraged beyond words. They disobeyed me deliberately. The knot at the back of my throat untied and let the tears flow freely as the children came to us as well.  
"You're such a stupid, stupid girl" I whispered hugging Sandry. "Don't you dare do anything like that ever again."  
None of us had expected any of them to return. Niko stood in the doorframe pale and shaking, Moonstream was puzzled. While I, I was just relived that everything turned out alright in the end.  
Yesterday, Sandry sat with me, while I was weeping over everything that had happened, today she quietly sat with me weeping for all of us, the bond we have come to share like a family and the joys of still being together after the toughest of times on us. If it wasn't for them four- tomorrow I would have buried my love. But tomorrow she lives. 


End file.
